Welcome To Surviving With Panache!
Lessons in survival for inspiration and hope in an unsteady world. We have lived through every hard day so far! Carpe'diem! 🌻🌻🌻
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<Chapter 21 | Table of Contents | Chapter 22>
My first year in Christian school was winding down. The mystique and questions had been answered and long evaporated. New friendships and alliances had been forged.
New goodbyes were unavoidable. Carolyn was moving to the LA area the same weekend school ended. Her stepfather got a new position at a different hospital up there. Of course, we promised to keep in touch via letters. That’s what one did back then.
Can you imagine? Writing a lengthy letter with your favorite pen. Properly addressing an envelope and putting a stamp on it. Then giving it to the mail man (they were nearly all male. I rarely came across a female letter carrier at that time. The females usually worked inside at the counters of the post office or back in sorting.) Having sent off the letter, I impatiently awaited a response. It would take at least 3 days to travel to its destination. The recipient would take however long to reply. Then it would travel another 3 days minimum back to my mailbox. Carolyn was a faithful pen pal. She called every couple of months, also. My mother drove me up to LA to visit her once, too. What a thrill for me. Looking back, Carolyn was the only friend of mine whom my mother went out of her way for. It’s not hard to see why. Nevertheless, I was so grateful.
Two of our junior high teachers were leaving for greener pastures. Mr. Doward was moving on to a public school for a bigger paycheck. He had a family to support, so that was understandable. I don’t remember where Mr. Owens was off to. He was a very fun teacher. We would miss him not just because he was able to make science interesting. He also had a boat that he took us out on for field trips. He was a laid-back type of person who all the students enjoyed. Of course, the 8th graders were moving up to the high school area. Now we would be the queens of the little junior high hill. Ha!
I was looking forward to summer. I had beach outings and lazy days at the Plunge on my mind. Both were my happy places!
Kim and I still spent time together on the weekends every couple of months during the school year and talked on the phone several times per week.
My mother worked out an arrangement for the summer with her mom. We no longer lived just down the street from them so mother would drop me off in the mornings at Kim’s during the weekdays and my stepfather, David, would pick me up in the afternoons, since he was off work earlier than mother. My mother shared the expense of the plunge for Kim, in turn I helped Kim with her regular chores. Additionally, her mom included some extra tasks that were like spring cleaning. We thoroughly cleaned bookshelves, organized closets and tidied up the garage. Obviously, both parents wanted to keep us busy.
Naturally, all chores had to be completed each day before the reward of going to the plunge, which was the local public swimming pool. It is known today as Parkway Aquatic Center. I took swimming lessons at this pool with Vince prior to starting our Kindergarten year. It is easy to imagine how pools became my forever happy place. Forever woven within the positive path ways of my mind.
If I have a pool, nothing else seems to matter. Not even when facing life’s curve balls. Get me in the Sunshine and a pool; I’m set.
Kim and I walked to the plunge to arrive when it opened or shortly thereafter. We would take apples, grapes and crackers with us for a snack and one of our moms gave us money daily for something to drink.
The plunge had several lifeguards on duty, a large changing room and mesh bags that we could use to keep our clothes and toiletries in. The bags had a little lock and a large, numbered safety pin. As the desk worker would hand us our bag, we could hardly wait to get changed. We would slide the little key to the lock on the long end of the pin and attach it somewhere on our bathing suits. Then we would walk out to the pool and survey the concrete to find the perfect spot with the best sun exposure to spread our towels on. We would sit there for a while before diving into the water checking out the human landscape for cute guys.
It took about a week. Then Kim and I found our summer suitors. Hers was a husky blond named Woody who was the same age and height. Mine was a tall handsome brunette named Jim. Jim was a year older than I and was the chaperone for his younger brothers, Charlie and “Greek”. Good looking family for sure. We all got along so effortlessly. Jim and Woody were especially daring jumping and diving off the high dive, doing flips in the air before becoming straight as arrows with their arms above their heads and fingers pointed at the sky while plummeting into the water below. They were great fun to watch. I went off that high dive exactly once. Nope, no more. That was enough for me. I discovered that I was uncomfortable at such a height. Kim was the same. She didn’t like that one, either. We preferred the “regular” diving board.
From it, I could jump high enough to do one full rotation curled up in a ball before stretching out into the arrow pose to descend into the sparkling water below. Other times, I would dive in as hard as I could while kicking my legs to make the 12 feet to touch the bottom of the pool and pop back up to the surface.
Jim and I went steady the whole summer. Making out in the park after swimming, nightly phone calls. We lived on opposite sides of town however, so hitting a movie or the ice cream shop was not an option.
On several weekends that summer, Kim accompanied myself, my mother and family friend to the Silver Strand State Beach. To say that we got very tan that year was an understatement.
It was the best summer ever. I loved the smell of the chlorine at the pool. I loved the endorphins of the sun. I loved the salt air of the beach. I loved escaping my parents’ fighting. They were disagreeing more often at this time. I kept my head down under the radar as much as possible.
One cloudy day our parents decided we would not go to the plunge. Kim and I were lounging on her living room floor watching an Elvis movie on television, Blue Hawaii. It was one of our favorites. Across the bottom of the screen a news notice was blinking, demanding our attention.
It was August 16, 1977.
The king of rock n’ roll was dead. There were screams of disbelief. Tears and hugging and more tears.
Where were you and what were you doing that fateful day?
What was it like writing letters back then and waiting for a reply? I bet it felt different than texting today. This was fun to read, and I liked how you described the high dive. I would have been too scared to try it even once.
There was a lot of change going on here. I never heard of a teacher taking children out on a boat. That truly was a sign of the times. It is also interesting that you were pen pals with a friend in the same state. If only yall had facetime. That poolside romance sounds cool. I wasn't even thought of when Elvis died. Great chapter. Thanks for sharing.